In Darkness
by omfgzXangelsXrosesXmasksXOHMY
Summary: A police officer arrives at a house for a follow up to a missing person report, what he finds is the fuel for this little story. Can you tell I haven't written anything in years?


A/N: I'm not really sure what to put here. I haven't jumped into one of these little projects in years, and even then I was young and dumb. Modern day. This seems to be the result of school work overload and one too many cocktails one evening musing "What would this story be like realistically modern day?" I admit, I'm going to be taking a few liberties with things. However the original story is based off of Gaston Leroux's work, not a certain movie made in 2004. I did mention some liberties are going to be taken though, right?

----

Getting out of his car, Officer Briggs couldn't help but roll his eyes at the call. A white female, Anne Desmond, was reported missing by one of her acquaintances when she didn't show up to Sunday Mass the second week in a row. Repeated calls on the behalf of Ms Roberta Stock, and now the police department of Amherst resulted in no response. How Jonathon Briggs, veteran cop of 21 years got stuck with this mundane task, he wasn't really sure. He did know, however, he was not looking forward to being greeted by Anne Desmond at the door and having to explain the situation of a fellow congregation member letting her imagination flow while she was probably just taking time off from the fire and brimstone.

Nothing out of the ordinary turned up on Anne Desmond when doing a routine background check. Single. 39 years old. Never married. No criminal background, not even a speeding ticket. Collaborated with what Ms Roberta Stock had told him, there was no reason to suspect foul play. She was squeaky clean, involved in several church activities, especially supervising activities with the youth group of the church.

Knocking on the door, Briggs thought of the better things he could, and would, be doing once he took care of this. Several of the men on his shift were meeting up at a diner on the other side of town for their dinner break. Hopefully, Ms Desmond wouldn't corner him into small talk.

There was no response. Briggs frowned and looked around. A car was in the driveway, according to the background report it was registered to Anne Desmond. There were leaves and small twigs on top, and it didn't look like it had been driven recently. He peered up into the small decorative window in the door, it was too dark inside to see much of anything. Which was kind of funny come to think of it, the shades and blinds were pulled over every window.

Briggs hit the doorbell one more time and stepped off the porch and started to walk around the house. Near the front door, there was a small pile of newspapers, wrinkled and some beginning to turn yellow. He looked at the bottom of the pile to see that the oldest one was dated two and a half weeks before. So this was going to turn out more complicated than expected, his thoughts of making it to the diner with the guys was starting to fade away.

The backyard was deserted. It was surrounded by a large privacy fence on all three sides. However the gardens were extremely neat and orderly contrasted with the lawn being overtaken with weeds. Briggs went towards a rose bed when he heard a noise from the direction of the house. He banged on the back door.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

"This is the police department. Ms Desmond, if you could open up. You aren't in trouble..." Or at least I don't think you are, he thought.

He stood around awaiting a response. Maybe the noise wasn't from the house, maybe it was from out on the street, regardless he would try the door. He had sufficient reasoning, at least in his mind, to do so. He went to push the door forcefully and was surprised to find it unlocked. His fingers trailed down to his walkie-talkie. There was no need to call for any backup yet, he figured. Ms Desmond may just be in the shower, or not home at all. Anyone could have picked her up and she was in Florida for all he knew. There wasn't any reason for him to be feeling the way he was right now: apprehensive.

Cautiously he entered the garage which was full of gardening and lawn equipment. The lawn mower was disassembled and a few tools were laid out neatly next to it. Briggs mused that he wished his wife could be that handy.

"Ms Desmond? This is Officer Briggs; I just want to confirm that you're alright."

He wasn't surprised at all that there was no response. His stomach rumbled. He went to the door that led into the house from the garage. Once again the door was unlocked thoughts of her being out of town diminishing.

What he faced when he entered the house completely contrasted everything he had been thinking all those minutes before. His dinner was completely forgotten as he fell down to his knees gagging.

The house itself was in complete order, from what he could see at least, no lights were on and with all the shades drawn, there was no natural light. For being locked up so long though it had grown extremely stuffy, a window couldn't have been cracked in weeks he felt and that would have been bearable if it weren't for the smell.

Briggs had heard of incidents of people disappearing and no one noticing for some time. Shut ins, mostly. People who didn't have any family or friends to notice that they were missing. When they missed one too many bills or their absence was finally noticed from some off the wall source, someone was sent over to look. They usually ended up being dead for quite some time. This, Briggs realized with horror, was what he was facing. He had had his experience with death, there was no doubt about that, when there was that 13 car pile up out on the interstate, he had been one of the first responding officers. Not proud of it, but Briggs had also pulled the trigger, extinguishing the life from another person once before. However that was recent death, he wasn't fond of cleaning out the fridge when something went bad, let alone finding a person who had been dead for an extended period.

With some effort, Briggs made it to his feet and unsteadily walked up the few steps leading to the kitchen. He pulled out his walkie-talkie and started talking as he walked further into the odor.

"This is Officer Briggs; I'm going to need backup."

"John my man, someone needs an escape from the clutches of Anne Desmond? You're a little late; we're just finishing up at the diner."

"No Bobby," John exhaled, trying to breathe from his mouth only, "I am requesting backup. Ms Desmond- Ms Desmond is-- Holy shit..."

Bobby must have noticed the crack in Briggs voice and sounded more concerned himself.

"John? John what's going on?"

Bobby heard a short scream, from John? He didn't think he had ever heard John scream before. There was a loud "thunk" which must have been the walkie-talkie.

"JOHN? JOHN!"

There was mumbling from Officer Jonathon Briggs end and then a shuffling noise and a clearer voice.

"Bobby? Get backup here immediately and oh shit, I don't know. Get a hold of the medical examiner, and maybe an ambulance too. I don't know."

"John, what's going on?"

"Hurry dammit!"

John Briggs dropped the walkie-talkie on the floor so he could grip his pistol with both hands. He cautiously took a couple steps forward to what had startled him.

"I want you to remain where you are. Put your hands where I can see them. Are you listening? Put your hands where I can see them! You don't want to mess around with me, buddy, turn slowly around. I'm armed."

The figure in the room was sitting on the floor facing a wall when it began to turn its body around. It seemed completely unaware of the smell permeating the house, acting like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"OH-my God..." Briggs breathed out, feeling even dizzier than he had when he first entered the house. His gun shook in his hands and the figure before him seemed to observe Briggs unease. It took a step forward.

"I SAID TO REMAIN WHERE YOU FUCKING ARE. IF YOU TAKE ANOTHER STEP FORWARD I WILL SHOOT!"

There seemed to be a reaction from the figure before him. A sign of unease and discomfort perhaps. It seemed as if it was finally going to listen, Briggs realized, as its hands were rising. Instead they made it as far as its head and the figure seemed to go mad with rage and dove for something dark on the floor.

In that moment Briggs panicked and resorted to his last option: he fired at the figure.


End file.
